


Androids Don't Feel

by Zenith_is_Alone



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith_is_Alone/pseuds/Zenith_is_Alone
Summary: Hank feels terrible when he's too drunk to remember to feed Sumo. It's not his fault Hank is a terrible owner. So, he begrudgingly buys an android. He tells himself that's the only reason why, but it does get lonely in his house all by himself.(And it's nice to have something to yell at.)





	Androids Don't Feel

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously and AU I thought up. If you haven't read the tags I suggest you do. Even so, this fic contains alcohol abuse, violence, and references the intent for suicide. Proceed with caution if this isn't your cup of tea.

Androids don't dream. Their minds, a system of ones and zeros, weren't programmed with that capability.

Androids don't sleep. The closet thing they can get to such an experience is their "offline" mode.

Androids don't feel. They have no emotional programming besides false empathy or understanding.

But still. Androids feel a sense of purpose once they're sold. They have meaning. Their names, given to them by their owners are a sort of promise to their usefulness. They were purchased above all other models to accomplish their task.

"RK800, give me your initialization text."

"Hello, I am a first generation RK800 android. I can look after your house, mind your pets, I am equipped with basic health diagnostics technology, and I speak over 300 languages. There is no need to feed or charge me. I am equipped with a quantic battery that makes me-"

"Ah! Alright, alright. I'll take it. Just...shut it up."

The android silenced itself upon request. It took no offense to the harsh tone directed at it from the middle aged man.

"Excellent. Would you like to give it a name?" The attendant asked with programmed enthusiasm.

The middle aged man ran his hand down his face as if he were asked to perform an extremely momentous task. "Uhhh...alright."

"RK800, register your name."

The Android snapped out of the predetermined moving cycle as prepared to register. In this moment, the man stood forward and swept a calculative look over the android in front of him. 

"...Connor."  
Registering...  
Registering complete.

"My name is Connor."  
"Excellent. Now that the payment is confirmed, you are permitted to leave with your new android. Unless of course you'd like to purchase some accessories-"

"No. That's it." He had a bored tone with twinges of hatred. Connor's voice recognition software compiled three different reasons as to why that would be so and stored them away for later. For now, the newly awakened android stepped off the viewing platform. He, as the context of his name insinuated the use of male pronouns, held out a hand to shake in greeting.

"Hello. Seeing as how you are my new owner I assessed that introductions are....involved..." Connor slowly lowered his hand as the man who purchased him just walked away.

"Come on!" He called back.

The man's car was remarkably dirty when Connor stepped inside. His sensors picked up what would be a foul odor from the back seat as well. His owner didn't react to it, so Connor assumed he was used to it. Still, his feet made terrible crunching noises when coming in contact with the styrofoam take out containers and cups thrown haphazardly. Connor did not comment on it and assumed that would be one of his first tasks. "What is your name?"

"What?"

"If I am to accurately serve you, having your name would greatly improve our relationship." 

Perhaps those were not the correct words Connor should have used seeing as how his owner glared harder at the road ahead of him.

"I just mean that-"

"I know what you mean!" The loudness of the response shocked Connor, but he was smart enough Not to let it show. "Urgh...my name is Hank Anderson."

"How would you prefer me to call you? Sir? Mr. Anderson?"

"Hank will be fine."

Connor smiled as it seemed they had a decent conversation going. "Okay, Hank. What task will I be performing once we arrive at your home?"

"I have a dog. Your main job is to feed him twice a day. There's a cup in the bag. Just give him a full cup whenever you feed him." Hank explained. His face softened as all pet owners do when talking about their animals.

"And is there anything you'd like me to do in between feeding times?"

"I don't know. Just keep the house clean. Keep up with the laundry. Leave me alone. Simple."

It wasn't as much as he expected, but still, it was something.

Soon, they pulled into the driveway of what Connor knew was Hank’s house. Something about the man matched the uncut grass and cracked walkway. The scrape of a key on the lock of a door was heard next and Hank threw the door open. On cue, a large dog came in from down the hall and jumped up onto Hank. Connor had expected Hank to push the dog away and keep his hard face up, but the man surprised him by dropping down to the dog's level and rushing to scratch every part of it.

"Who's a good boy?! Who's a good boy?! That's right! You are! Yes you are!" Hank cooed in an obnoxious voice.

Connor’s lip quirked up at the sight of the wagging tail. “What’s his name?” 

As if he had forgotten his new android, Hank tensed and forced the happy look off his face as he turned his head to glare at Connor. “His name is Sumo and his bowl in over by the stove. Go feed him.”

Connor nodded and found the food easily. The large bag had been chewed through leaving the kibble bits strewn all over the floor. As he stepped around it to grab the broom leaned against the fridge, he couldn’t help but notice how sticky the floor was. A turned over bottle of some sort of alcohol drink on the table seemed to be the culprit. Connor would have worried about the finish on the table had he not seen there were already several spot of such a case. 

He added ‘Mop the floors,’ to his list of tasks to as he swept up the dog food on the floor. Not knowing if they had any of the sticky residue on them, he threw them away. Sumo could get sick from that food. Just as Hank said, there was a cup in the bag that Connor used to scoop food into the large aluminium bowl. 

A low “Boof” was heard from Sumo as said dog ran into the kitchen to eat. Using a mug in the cabinet, Connor filled the second bowl almost to the brim with water. As he watched as Sumo slurped and devoured the food almost too fast, he heard the click of footsteps behind him. 

It was Hank. But Hank wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the hungry dog with a look of deep regret. “I bet you think I’m a terrible owner.”

It took Connor a second to realize the statement was directed at him. “Actually, I don’t. If you were truly incompetent in taking care of Sumo, he wouldn’t love you as much as he does.” 

The eyes narrowed but never moved from the dog. “How do you know?” 

“He ran to you when you opened the door.”

“Hmph.”

Connor decided to leave Hank to watch Sumo as he looked through the cabinets. There wasn’t much food to be seen and even less on the right side of its expiration date. Still, he managed to scrape together a box of instant macaroni and cheese with a half of what was left of a sausage. 

“What are you doing?” Hank asked as he picked up the bottle from the table and took a sip of the remaining liquid. 

Connor turned to spare him a glance before he returned to the food. “Making dinner for you.”

“I didn’t tell you to.” 

“You don’t need to. My programing provides me with the ability to assess situations and plan accordingly.” 

There wasn’t an answer to his observation, so Connor concentrated on cooking. It took 5 minutes for the water to begin boiling and then another 12 for the noodles to cook. While he waited for those to be done, he cooked the sausage until it was done and mixed it with the noodles once he drained the excess water. Hank only moved one time to grab another bottle from the counter, but he returned to his chair right after. 

Connor dished out a plate to Hank and didn’t wait for him to begin eating as he sat down in the chair across from him. He watched as Hank took a few bites and then washed it down with the bottle. He wasn’t stupid enough to comment on it, so he let it be. Half of the plate was finished before Hank stopped eating completely. Instead he seemed content with just stabbing the meat and noodles onto his fork and then watched as they fell off. 

“Cole loved mac and cheese.” 

It was the first word said to him in more than an hour. While Connor didn’t feel awkwardness, he was eager for the chance to bond with Hank. “Is Cole your son?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! Well, where is he?” Connor was surprised by the news. Sure, Hank was soft for Sumo, but most humans would be. If Hank had a child, that would be yet another thing for Connor to help with. 

“He’s dead.” Came the short reply. 

“...Oh…” So much for that approach. 

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’” Hank sneered. His next stab at his food was rough enough to send a sausage slice flying off the table and onto the ground where Sumo snatched it up before Connor could react. “One of your kind killed him.”

“One of my kind? An android?” Unease settled into Connor’s system as he read Hank’s body language. He was tensing. Like an animal waiting to strike.

Hank ignored his response completely. “He was only a kid. He had his whole life ahead of him…”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Hank. I can’t imagine how it feels to lose a child.” His empathetic program supplied the response for him. However, this only served to anger the man as he stood from his chair and started pacing. Well, pacing wasn’t the right word for it. Hank was to drunk to walk straight, so it was more of a stumble. 

“Of course you don’t. Hunk of plastic can’t feel anything!” He seethed and cursed as his foot caught on the fridge and he almost fell. 

Connor shot out of his chair to catch the man, but was shoved away. 

“Get off of me! Don’t touch me, fucking android freak!” Hank spat at Connor as he recovered using the counter. “I work for the detroit police you know! We handle a lot of androids. It’d be easy to shoot you right now and call you a deviant. Nobody would bat an eye!”

Hands rising in a show of surender, Connor spoke. “Hank, I know you’re upset. But you’re drunk. Let me help you to bed and-” 

“Shut up! Your fucking kind is nothing but trouble! If it wasn’t for Sumo I never would have brought you here! You’re nothing! Just a scrap from an assembly line!” 

This continued until Hank ran out of steam. His words cut deep into Connor. Each one creating an stability in his software. Eventually though, Hank stomped off to the couch where he passed out. Sumo laid down under him as if to keep watch. It took Connor a solid half hour to gather his bearings after the verbal lashing he had received. Hank was hostile. He was to be treated with the utmost caution. 

Hank didn’t remember the confrontation the next morning. He came stumbling into the kitchen with a hand over his eye and was surprised when Connor held out a steaming mug of coffee. He took it gratefully though and downed half of it in one scorching gulp. “Urgh. Thanks...What happened last night?”

“You passed out on the couch after you got drunk while eating dinner.” Connor informed in his calm voice. “There is some leftovers if you’d like to have breakfast. You are dangerously low on much else though.” 

“Yeah, I usually just get take out on the way in.” Hank said as he accepted to offer to leftovers. 

Connor was wary with how laid back the man seemed. There was none of the hostility shown the night before. In fact, Connor detected gratitude as he set a steaming plate of reheated food in front of Hank. He even received a quiet “Thanks” in return. The mood shifts from Hank were giving Connor whiplash. 

“See you later Sumo!” Hank cooed to the dog as he grabbed his coat. “Don’t burn the house down, Connor!” 

“I won’t, Hank!” Connor assured right before the door shut. 

 

Hank didn’t return until 1AM that night. He was already drunk as well. How he managed to drive home without crashing was a miracle. He didn’t recognize Connor when he saw him sitting in the same chair as the night before and he pulled his gun out immediately. “Who the fuck are you?! Why are you-” He paused to burp loudly. “Why are you here?!”

“It’s me, Hank. Connor. The android you purchased from a CyberLife Facility two nights ago?” 

“Now why would I do that?” Hank asked suspiciously as he took a step closer. His hold on his gun was surprisingly steady. He continued getting closer until he had the barrel of the gun pressed against Connor’s forehead. 

“Because...Because Sumo needed care while you are at work…”

Hank blinked at him for a few tense minutes before he dropped the gun onto the table. “Yeah, sounds like me.” He slumped into the chair across from Connor and promptly passed out on the table. 

Connor suddenly realized his thyrium pump was beating unnaturally fast. Almost like humans when they are afraid. But...Connor couldn’t be afraid. He was just an android. A machine designed to accomplish a task. He had no real blood. No real organs or bones. No feelings…

 

Not every night ended in such a way. In fact, Hank came early the very next night and sat Connor down to watch the “classics” with him. Monsters Inc., Godzilla, and Back to The Future were among them. “These were the movies I loved when I was a kid.” He explained with a chuckle. 

“But they’re full of scientific fallacies.” Connor observed. Why do you love something that’s wrong?”

“It’s not ‘Wrong,’ Connor. Just incorrect. And I love them because they are entertaining.” 

Connor enjoyed those nights the most.

The pair grew into a pattern of sorts. Connor would fix breakfast for Hank and then see him off to work before proceeding to do whatever tasks needed to be done. As the night drew nearer, he anxiously awaited to see which Hank would come home that night. If Connor didn’t hear the scratch of keys in the lock by 11PM, he knew Hank would be out drinking. So, he learned to make himself scarce after that time. Once, he even hid in the hall closet all night just to make sure he wasn’t seen. It all came to a head one lonely night 5 or so months after Connor was purchased. 

Connor had a steak dinner cooked and ready on the table for Hank when he came in. The man had seemed off that morning and Connor wanted to make him happy. Hank always loved his steaks. 

He waited patiently for the man to return home. Luckily, Hank came in at 10PM as he had hoped. He was slightly disappointed when Hank declined dinner. 

“It looks great, Connor, but I’m just pretty worn out...I’m just going to watch some TV tonight.” 

“Oh, Okay. I’ll just wrap this up so you can have it tomorrow!” Connor said as he got out the necessary supplies. Hank gave him a small smile in return before grabbing a bottle of scotch from the cabinet. He didn’t seemed to interested in it though, which Connor was grateful for. He finished putting away the food and washing the few dishes he had dirtied during the process. When he was finished, he looked into the living room to see that only a little of the bottle had been drunk in the past half hour. Seeing this as a nice sign, he walked him and almost asked Hank if he were ready for bed. Almost. 

Instead, the man woke up from his dozing and his eyes turned to the movement. His eyes widened upon seeing Connor who had stopped wearing his jacket inside at Hank’s insistence. The man had offered to get him clothes of his own, but Connor had declined after one night when Hank poured an entire bottle on him and said “No matter what you wear you’ll always be just a fucking machine.”

This time though, the man whispered, “Cole?” 

Cole? Oh no. Did Hank think Connor was his son? 

“Cole? Oh my god. Cole!” Hank stuttered as he tried to stand. He must have had a few drinks on the way home from the way he was walking. No way should he be acting like that form the small amount he drank from the bottle. 

“Wait, Hank!” Connor couldn’t say anything else as he was pulled into a tight hug. 

Hank smelled like liquor and sweat. But his arms were warm around Connor and he couldn’t help but lean into the hug. 

“I...I’m not Cole…” He mumbled. 

“What do you mean you aren’t-” Hank pulled away from Connor to question him but immediately caught sight of the bright blue LED attached to his temple. “Oh for fucks sake!” He spat viciously pushing Connor away. Connor couldn’t catch himself and fell onto his back as Hank shook with rage. “I outta…” He paused as his eye caught on his gun he put on the coffee table. He picked it up and pointed it at Connor’s face. 

“Hank, wait! You don’t have to do this!” Connor found himself begging. “Please! I…”

“You what? What could you possibly say that’ll keep me from putting a bullet in your head.” 

“I...I’m scared, Hank. Please.” Connor begged. He suddenly realized he didn’t want to die. 

Androids don’t have feelings. 

But Connor was so scared. Hank wanted him dead. He’d never get to experience anything ever again. There would be nothing. He wouldn't get to see the ocean. He wouldn't get to hug Sumo. He wouldn't see Hank laugh at something scientifically inaccurate on the television. Nothing. 

Hank suddenly stepped off of him. Connor looked up in confusion. 

“Leave me alone, Connor. Just...Just leave me alone.” Hank walked over to the couch and sat down. He didn’t put the gun down either. Instead. He looked down at it and traced a finger along the barrel. “Connor. Go to my room. Lock the door and stay there no matter what you hear.”

Connor sat up but didn’t move. “Wait...What are you going to do?” 

“That’s an order, Connor. Go to my room, lock the door, and don’t-” 

“No! No! I won’t not if it means you’re going to...No!” Connor protested as he started to crawl over to Hank. 

“Are you going against my orders?” 

Connor wanted to. So badly. Every program, protocol, and code screamed at him to obey. Do as Hank said. Listen to your owner. But Connor knew if he did that, he'd never see Hank alive again. 

Suddenly, it was like a wall was in front of him. Every bit of his coding telling him to stop. It was an out of body experience. Connor found himself ripping the demands down with ease. Time moved slowly as he did it. With every code broken, he felt a weight lift off of him. 

When there wasn't anything else to rip down, Connor found himself tackling Hank off the couch and ripping the gun away from him. “Stop...You...you can't! No. I won't let you.”

Hank sighed and didn't make a move to get up. “What are you Connor? You aren't human. But you don't act like an android...What are you?”

Connor didn't know. What was he? Man? Machine? A living being? A combination of ones and zeros? 

Taking the gun with him, he ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. His thyrium pump was beating off the charts.

‘What are you Connor?’

Deviant. 

The word sent a shock down Connor’s spine. He was a deviant. Android's don't feel. But deviants did. He saw stories on the news every night on deviants going rouge and killing their owners. When they were caught, they were shut down and their bodies were thrown into a landfill. 

Was that what was going to happen to him? Would Hank have him shutdown like he had threatened so many times? 

He had to run. Leave before the older man could get the chance. Canada had no android laws. He could sneak across the border. He'd just have to blend in-

He couldn't. 

Connor’s LED caught his attention in the mirror. It was a shocking red color. His LED would give him away. Ruffling his hair did nothing seeing as how it wasn't long enough to cover the light. A hat would only be a temporary solution. 

‘The deviants were caught trying to flee the scene. Both had ripped off their own LEDs and would have slipped passed had they not have been wounded. A trail of blue blood led the police right to their hide out in their owner’s shed.’

There was his solution. Connor could get away. All he had to do was take it out. It wouldn't hurt seeing as he felt no pain. Still, his hands shook as he searched for something he could possibly use. 

The bathroom was bare all except for the medicine cabinet. Upon inspection, Connor discovered Hank's cut throat razor. Clearly it was old and slightly rusted from disuse, but it was all their was. Connor wasn't keen on trying to take out his LED with a tube of toothpaste. 

Hands still shaking, he pressed the blade against the light. The angle was off. As soon as Connor put pressure on it, the blade slid past the LED and scratched off the skin around it. His white android body sat exposed to the air. “Shit!” He cursed and tried again. This time, he used both hands hoping it would be steadier. 

It had the opposite effect and Connor once again missed. This time, he took off the skin from his temple to the corner of his eyes. 

“Come on. Please!” He pleaded and readied the blade once more. 

Each time he'd try, his hand would miss. Each time, he'd become more frantic. By the time a knock sounded on the door, Connor had tears falling down his cheeks and was basically hacking at his own face. “Please. Please. Please!” He repeated under his breath. 

“Connor. What are you doing in there?” Hank asked both tired and confused. “Androids don't use the bathroom.” 

“Just...just a minute!” Connor panted as he tried once more. The blade slid like butter into his model though causing blue blood to leak out of the small cut. “Shit!”

“Connor! Open this door!” Hank's voice was more assertive this time and he jiggled the doorknob. 

“Hold on!”

“Connor! Now!” He was slamming his shoulder into the door now.

Connor was surprised that he could keep the razor in his hands at all seeing as how he was shaking so bad. A final attempt ended with an elongated gash across his eyebrow that slowly leaked thyrium into his eye. It was then that Hank burst the door open and barely caught himself from falling. He examined the scene in front of him and looked appalled. “Connor what did you do?!”

Connor was frozen as he stood there. The razor clasped with both hands, his frame shaking so bad he was surprised he was still standing, and blue blood steadily flowing. “I-I...have to hide!”

Hank's brow furrowed in confusion. “From what?”

“I-I don't want to die...don't want to shut down. Canada...no android laws.” Connor tried to explain. He was hesitant to give up the razor but didn't put up a fight as Hank slowly took it from his hands. 

“Connor...I’m sorry…” Hank started and silenced Connor before he could reply. “I know I scared you with the gun, but you have to know I didn't mean it. I wouldn't have shot you.”

“...disobeyed orders…”

“I wasn't thinking straight. You protected me.”

Connor sniffled as he tried to wipe his first tears away. “Don't want to be a deviant…”

“You aren't a deviant. You're Connor. Your own person. Your own man.” Hank managed to talk Connor into sitting on the closed toilet lid. “Geez. You really did a number on your head.”

“I have to hide.” Connor explained as he reached up to pull at the mess of skin and plastic. Hank grabbed his hand though before he could damage the cuts anymore. He didn’t seemed to care that he was getting blue blood all over his own hands. 

“No, Connor. You don’t have to hide.” He assured. There wasn’t much he could do to fix the wound, but he grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and pressed it against it until Connor’s body fixed the leak. 

Connor’s eyes fixed on his socked feet. While his shaking had stopped somewhat, he still felt an underlying sense of panic as he thought about his fate. “I don’t want to die…”

“Who said anything about dying? This leak isn’t bad and we’ll take you to get fixed in the morning.”

Fixed?! Was this Hank’s sick way of telling Connor he’d be reset? Or even deactivated? Hank’s purchase was still fresh. The warranty would give him a new and better Connor free of charge if he wanted. “No! No! I don’t want to go back! I won’t!” His attempt to get up and push Hank away was thwarted by the man’s hold on his shoulder. 

“Sit down, son. Seems we need to have a talk.” Hank told him calmly as he himself took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. 

Connor’s fists clenched, but he did as he was told for the first time that night. “Please...Don’t reset me. Or deactivate me. I’ll be better! I won’t disobey.” 

“Whoah! Who said anything about deactivating you? We just need to repair your head. What were you even- No, one question at a time. Answer my question Connor. Who told you I was going to deactivate you?” Hank smeared blue blood onto his pants as he braced himself on his knees. He had a suspicion of where the android’s ideas had come from and the thought alone made him feel sick. 

“You did, Hank...When you’re drunk...You don’t...You don’t like my presence.” Connor admitted. He watched as Hank let out a heavy sigh. The man looked to have aged 30 years in that moment. 

“Connor...You have to know I don’t mean what I say when I’m drunk. I just get frustrated and-”

“But I don’t Hank. I don’t know that. It’s almost half of the interactions we have! I worry everynight when you don’t come home until midnight. I worry that you just might be a bit to angry and you’ll kill me. Or that you’ll grow tired of seeing me and send me back as some defective model. I’m scared, Hank!” The anger left soon after only to be replaced with sadness. “I’m not, Cole. I can’t be him. You could easily send me back. I’m replaceable!”

“But you aren’t, Connor! Sure, I could get another android, but they wouldn’t be you! I couldn’t watch them pet Sumo knowing it’s not you, kid! I couldn’t bear to watch old movies and listen to them pointing out scientific inaccuracies without thinking about you. You’re different from all of them. You’re my Connor! Not some high end reproduction!” Hank panted as he finished his rant leaving Connor stunned. 

“I...I mean that much to you?” Connor asked hesitantly. 

“Of course you do. Do you think I would have shared so much about myself to you if you were just some fucking housemaid?” 

“Well, no…” 

“Exactly! Now, what exactly were you trying to do earlier?” Hank asked confused. 

Connor sighed this time as he averted his eyes. “I tried to take out my LED. It gives me away as an android. I had heard new stories about deviants doing it that looked completely human after...I was panicking to much and my hands shook…” 

Hank patted his shoulder in understanding. “We’ll deal with that later. For now, what say we go to sleep? I’m fucking exhausted.”

This caused them both to laugh and Connor nodded. “Okay…”

“So we’re good?” Hank asked as he stood. 

“We’re good.”

 

Connor was awakened out of sleep mode as he heard Hank’s bedroom door open. His sensors told him it was only 8AM which was abnormal seeing as how Hank usually slept well past 2PM. “Hank?” He asked sitting up. “If I had known you planned to awaken early I would have prepared breakfast.”

“Not today, Connor. We have to go get your head repaired remember?” Hank asked rhetorically. He seemed to be dressed in casual (Well, more so that usual) clothes. 

Connor was a ball of nerves the entire drive to the CyberLife facility. His hands clenched in his lap betrayed his normally calm features. “Relax. We’ll be in and out in about an hour, okay?” Hank reassured. 

“About an hour…” Connor repeated before taking a calming breath. “About an hour.”

 

It took exactly 47 minutes, 23 seconds, and 2 milliseconds before they returned to the car. Hank had stayed next to Connor the entire time as he had promised. The attendant had recommended that Hank leave and return in an hour, but he blatantly refused while muttering some such profanity under his breath. He looked over Connor’s face when the last of the repairs were complete and hummed in approval. “Good as new.”

“Yes, sir. Seeing as how it still fits under our warranty, there will be no charge on this visit. You are free to leave unless you require something else.”

“No. That’s all.” Hank said and motioned for Connor to follow him out of the store. They made one more stop that Connor wasn’t prepared for outside of a strip mall. 

“Wait here.” Was all Hank said as he got out. 

 

They didn’t make it home until 5PM and Connor was very disappointed. “You’ve missed lunch and breakfast, Hank. That isn’t healthy.” 

“Pshh. Let me show you what I’ve bought and then I’ll let you make me the biggest late lunch possible.” Hank dismissed as he grabbed three large bags out of the back seat. “Come on.” 

As if Connor had any other choice than to meet the man inside. 

He was surprised as he walked through the door and an outfit was being thrown at him. 

“Go put this on.” 

“...Okay?” 

Clothes. For Connor. Hank had bought clothes for Connor. Not just offered some of his own, but actually went out and bought clothes for him. The thought alone made Connor smile as he pulled the clothes on. They were softer than the ones issued to him by CyberLife. Lighter too. Stepping out of the bathroom, Connor made his way into the living room where Hank sat waiting. 

“Well won’t you look at that! You actually look like a fucking human being! Well, almost...Come here.” Hank said patting the seat next to him. 

Connor smiled at the compliment but it quickly smoothed out into a look of confusion. Sitting next to Hank didn’t answer any of his questions. In fact, there were only more when Hank pulled out his key ring. “Stay still.” He said. Connor of course did as he was told as Hank reached up to his face. It was only when Connor felt the small POP as his LED came off that he realized what Hank had done. “There you go. Now you look human.” He pressed the fallen LED into Connor’s hand and cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking starving.”

The gesture was kind and tender. Not something one would expect from Hank, but it meant the world to Connor who pulled Hank into a tight hug. “Thank you.” He mumbled. 

“You’re welcome, son. Now I believe you promised me a late lunch?”

This caused connor to laugh in amusement. “You promised yourself that!”

“Hmph. Well, hope to it then! Or are you gonna make a liar out of a poor old man?” 

Connor’s smile stayed even as he stood up and walked into the kitchen. Whilst taking the ingredients he needed out of the fridge, he noticed the plate of food from the night before. He had no problem as he dumped it all in the trash. He wanted no reminder of that night. Especially now that Hank had changed. 

He would be a fool to expect Hank to stop drinking cold turkey. But luckily he knew better. He did manage to talk Hank down to a small glass to accompany dinner every night. Occasionally, the man would slip and wouldn’t come home until much later. But he never threatened Connor again. In a show of good faith, he even bought a gun safe and locked his in it every night after work just so he couldn’t wield it at Connor. Admittedly, there were times when he would mistake Connor for an older Cole. And Connor learned to go along with it. It was how he helped Hank cope with the loss of his child. 

It wasn’t a perfect system. But neither were either of them. It worked. And that was all that mattered. 

So androids don’t sleep. Or dream. Or eat. But they do feel. Who knows, perhaps even more than humans.


End file.
